


In The Depth Of Your Eyes

by Arkhaniel



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blood Drinking, Dettlaff is alive, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Romance, Smut, Vampire form, Vampire relationship, post-Blood and Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-21 23:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkhaniel/pseuds/Arkhaniel
Summary: "What about you now? Got a plan?""I do. I must find Dettlaff. Help him. I certainly owe him that much."After the adventure of Toussaint where Geralt spared Dettlaff, Regis decided to look for his blood brother. Their reunion will give them more than a simple conversation could have done.





	In The Depth Of Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Marmottine](/users/Marmottine) for the Beta read!

_North East of the duchy of Rowan, on Darrigur Peak, year 1275_

It has been a month since the death of Anna Henrietta beloved sister, Syanna. A month since everything returned to a peaceful and quite life in the duchy of Toussaint. 

But in another duchy, inside Nilfgaard territory, the recent events led one soul to search for another.

Regis had looked in all places he could think about. In Nazair, in Brugge, all around the areas known by his friend. But alas there were no traces of him. Dettlaff told them he was going far away from men, and he certainly did after what happened. 

Still, there was a place where he could be, a secluded part of the southern land, where no humans were living because of the harshness of its landscape. 

They had talked about it long time ago, during their youth, when Regis began to be interested in all kinds of plants and medicinal herbs. There was an area at the top of the cold mountain of Darrigur, where a rare flower was growing. _Pyrola Asarifolia_. An old tome about plants gave it strong therapeutics virtues, particularly for wounds and rheumatism. Regis had always wanted to gather some samples of that particular plant to test its effects. He had mentioned it to his friend, once, and even if the chances that Dettlaff would be in that particular place were practically non-existent, he had to be sure.

Hovering above the mountains in his mist form during a beautiful afternoon, Regis felt something unsettling under him, a weak but present feeling of familiarity. He regained human form in front of a little cascade, the only spot on the peak where the vegetation could survive. 

Among the green leafs on the side of the waterfall, he caught sight of a thin little stalk on which were growing delicate pink flowers with a shape of a little bell. It was what he was looking for, the Pyrola. Behind the curtain of water could be seen the entrance of a cave, looking rather deep. 

Someone was there, in the depth of the mountain. His scent lingered in the air.

The amazement he felt to know that his friend had chosen his hiding location accordingly to the discussion they had centuries ago was quickly replaced by composure and a bit of sadness.

He had to take his time, not to rush their new meeting. Knowing in which state of mind he will find Dettlaff, he needed to be careful. He knew him, knew what kind of male he was, how to react to his burst of anger. He wanted more than anything else to help him, but he had to be cautious, choose his words carefully.

He hesitated a moment, looking more closely at the Pyrola and at the empty landscape around him. When a cold wind rose, he took slow steps toward the entrance of the cave, crossing the cascade, not bothered by the coldness of the water. 

His steps sounded incredibly loud despite his cautious pace, and he could feel himself getting anxious as the distance between them decreased. 

He knew what he had to say to Dettlaff, was prepared for their meeting. But when he finally saw him, sitting in the darkness at the end of the high tunnel, looking straight into his eyes and waiting for him to get closer, he couldn't utter a word, and got frozen on his spot.

His eyes were reflected so much pain and anger. It came at him suddenly through their bond, and let him breathless.

The recent events materialized in Regis' mind, and particularly the moment when everything could have changed, where he could have lost him. _Him_. His blood brother. The one who gave him back his life, the one who saved him from an eternity of despair. 

At Tesham Mutna in the cage, he had chosen to suffer in order to find him. He had to try everything he could to be sure that his friend won't get hurt, or worse, won't get killed. But he couldn't be defeated isn't it? Not by Geralt's hand, not by any human's hand. 

He wouldn't have let Geralt died, for the witcher was a dear friend, no matter what. He would have fought Dettlaff, and knowing the rage he was in, the issue wouldn't have been good.

Fortunately at the end the two persons he hold dear didn't had to die, he was so relieved of it. They brought Syanna to the ruins, she died – which was regretful considering the fact that he broke his promise to Geralt – and Dettlaff kept his words and stopped the massacre, preventing a fight that could have awaken his greatest fear.

Loosing the only bond that gave more sense to him than all the others. And with it, his own self would have fallen into pieces.

A cold and unpleasant shiver ran along his whole frame, and an uncontrolled whimper escaped his lips. He was trembling now ; his well-known fortitude shattered.

He acted with his instincts, guided by the blood bond they shared and by an agonizing feeling of relief.

He fell on his knees in front of Dettlaff and grabbed the back of his head with both hands, letting his forehead rest against his. 

A long moment passed, quiet in appearance. Dettlaff was also trembling, trying to control the emotions crashing into him.

At first he hadn't wanted to see Regis. He wanted to be left alone in his grief, he wasn't ready to talk about it, talk about the murder of Syanna by his own hands, the only human he had ever felt so strong feelings for. He was lost. All those years of lies and manipulation. He had seen the light in this incomprehensible world, found a place for himself by Syanna's side. But now, he had nothing left. What was the meaning of what humans call love. They had no respect, no shame in betrayal. They existed only for themselves, only to deceive, to kill. He should have known. His own naivety angered him as much as her betrayal. 

He had felt Regis arrived, sensed his presence. He knew he would come. After all he chose a place known to him. Why had he done that?  
_Regis – so familiar... the last ray of hope._  
He wasn't ready to confront him, but when he locked his eyes with him, and saw the change in his gaze, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. He knew Regis' weaknesses, knew that the composure of this being, as strong as it can appear, is hiding a more sensitive and darker side. Someone like him. An immortal soul lost in an unwanted world.  
_A friend – No... his blood brother, the most important member of his pack _.  
He could be annoying sometimes and a sort of moralist. He has been in his way in Toussaint to find Syanna. But ultimately, Dettlaff found her thanks to Regis, and to Geralt even if it was hard to admit. He knew Regis had been through a lot to find him. Yes, he gave him back his life, helped him regenerate though a long and difficult process. But Regis could have left him, particularly after his outburst of rage and the killing of Toussaint inhabitants.__

____

He felt the strong hands of Regis on his head. Strong but shivering. He looked at his face and saw the marks Toussaint events had left on him. His gaunt appearance left a lot to imagine, as well as the tiredness of his eyes.

Despite his resentment and his pride, Dettlaff needed him, and nothing could have helped him more at that moment than the gesture Regis gave him. This gesture of affection and tenderness that was only for them. Forehead against one another, hands at the back of his head – It was something they got used to during Regis' regeneration, a meaning of trust and acknowledgment. 

Dettlaff finally grabbed Regis' head back, hissing as he did, overwhelmed, not by the closeness, but by the smell, and the waves of familiarity rushing to him through their bond. No words were needed, no human language could have expressed the feelings of the moment.

His nose traveled along Regis' cheek to settle against his neck just below his jaw. He breathed deeply and let Regis' scent invaded his whole being. That particular scent that all higher vampires shared gave him a feeling of relief and comfort that even Syanna couldn't give him. There was also something familiar in it, something he gave Regis not so long ago to save him.

His blood. Dettlaff's blood was flooding into Regis. Having taken his own composition, it still held something recognizable, something that marked Regis as a member of his pack, as a blood kin. According to their own codex, because of the special bond they shared, Dettlaff had the superiority, he was the pack master, the one Regis own his loyalty, his respect and even his life. They belonged to one another in a very special way. They were not lovers, not mates. Nothing romantic bound them to each other. Even the term "friends" were doubtful in their vampire culture and language. They were _kraver coire_. Impossible to translate in human words, it means they were united by blood, but it was different than a fraternal link between two biological brothers.

Regis bared his neck to him and the dark-haired vampire took immediately advantage of it, biting lightly on the skin, drawing faint dots of blood. They were gone in an instant.

He pushed Regis on the ground with soft movements, and growled lowly at him, as if annoyed or discontent about his behavior. And he was in fact annoyed that he had risked his life by coming to Beauclair to help him. He could have stayed in Brugge after his regeneration, finishing recovering like Dettlaff told him. Instead of that he had defied him by stepping between him and Geralt during their initial fight, getting hurt along the way by no other than Dettlaff himself. He didn't wanted his help, didn't wanted him to worry, to force himself to come and to delay his recovery. Of course he was glad that he did it in the end, but he didn't took care of Regis after he found him at Stygga to let him suffered the way he did, for something that didn't concerned him.

He growled again, closer to Regis' neck, tightening his grip on his arm, pricking his tunic with his sharp nails. Regis stayed motionless, understanding Dettlaff point, but at the same time never regretting what have been done back then in Toussaint, apart from Syanna's death.

"You know I was right to come. You needed me at that moment, I knew I could help." Regis' voice was soft and barely audible if not for vampires high hearing.

Dettlaff tone was not as light, and each world came out in a growl betraying his irritation.  
"You should not have put yourself in so much trouble, so much pain. I can see it on you, the cost you paid for it. Your regeneration is impeded."

Regis took hold on his arms, squeezing them with as much force as Dettlaff was using on his own.  
"I owned you that and I regret nothing. It wouldn't have been so complicated if you weren't so stubborn to let others help you. You are not alone my friend."

Dettlaff wanted to argue, but lacked of strength and motive. He knew Regis was right in a way, even if he didn't liked to hear him speak about endeavor. He didn't wanted to see Regis like that, see the torments he had caused him because of his naivety and his rage. He wanted to atone for that.

He let his weight settled between Regis' legs, and brought his wrist against his mouth.  
"Drink."

There were no place for resistance or denying in the way he said it. But even if he had a choice, Regis saw no reason to refuse. He wanted it, had thought about it since he had smelled Dettlaff's blood when Geralt brought his severed hand to him. That delightful smell. The life giving liquid that brought him back from his icy terror after his defeat against Vilgefortz. He remembered the bliss he had felt when drinking it back then, when his strength slowly came back to him, when calmness and joy replaced the horrible feelings he had experienced. It had nothing to do with blood lust, with the addiction during his youth.

He interlaced his fingers on top of Dettlaff's and kindly bit his wrist, letting the crimson liquid run down his throat. Encouraging by the other vampire, he bit several times to reopen the wound. There were no pained sounds coming from Dettlaff. He was just calmly looking at him, letting him take as much as he needed.

Finally, Regis withdrew from his wrist with a lengthy moan, letting his arms fell heavily on the rocky ground. Closing his eyes in joy, he forgot his previous emotions and concentrate only on that strange feeling of being home, when there were only the two of them, far away from humans, far away from the chaos of this world.

Regis wanted to feel more connected physically to the other, so he withdrew his leather jacket and then his gloves, which took him longer than necessary because of Dettlaff's grip. Finally free from them, he let his hands roam over Dettlaff's face. But something was missing – something more natural for them. Now that they were hidden from the rest of the world, they could be themselves, no human artifice, no false pretenses.

Dettlaff felt it too. Rising up, he withdrew his own gloves, his knife and his heavy black jacket, letting them fall on the floor without much a thought. There was no need for finesse, for good manners in that moment. Their vampires instincts guided them, taking more control over their actions.

Dettlaff form began to shift, and like an awaited freedom, he let his bestial appearance shown entirely with a groan of relief.

Meanwhile, Regis had disappeared from the ground and was now in front of him, touching his face again with more tenderness and interest than before. He traced each emaciated contour of his transformed face – the protuberant veins on his forehead, the sharp edge of his cheekbone, the wrinkles on his nose and upper lip, and the two incisors exceeding his raw of small pointed teeth.

Dettlaff's turquoise eyes bored into his own when Regis' hands came to a stop under his jaw. Something raw was burning in their depths, an intensity he had rarely seen before. Their was an unfeigned need for more closeness, to renew their connection by more physical contact.  
He could feel Dettlaff powerful aura under his fingers, the agitation of his blood. He was barely containing himself.

Regis disappeared again in a puff of fog, to materialize behind the black-haired vampire. His fangs bit into the nape of his neck, playfully, drawing only a faint drop of blood. Now naked but still human looking, Regis clawed at Dettlaff skin under his red chemise, producing a shiver from the male in front of him and a low guttural moan. He then proceeded to divest him from the rest of his upper clothes, and before he had time to uncover more of Dettlaff's anatomy, he found himself on his back again, trapped between two hard things.

Having decided to remove the unpleasant smell of herbs clinging on Regis skin, Dettlaff was shamelessly rubbing himself on Regis, looking like a feral wolf marking his territory. When their bared chest slid against each other, Regis hissed and encircled him with his limbs, enjoying the feeling of his non-human skin and his strong and specific scent.

Dettlaff lost himself in the sensation. They had done it before, sharing this kind of intimacy when Regis felt better after his initial regeneration. They did it to heal at that moment, to help Regis to come back to his vampire senses, to sooth him from the emotional and physical pain. It was not so much different now. After the fear, the anger and the despair from last month, they both felt a vital need, by the intimacy they could provide each other, to soothe the ache and get lost into one another.

Unwanted flashback came to Dettlaff mind, to the moment at Tesham Mutna. He had threatened to kill Regis if he didn't wanted to let him leave. He could have lost his blood brother for his mistakes, was too deep into his rage to think rationally. Now, he knew he would never betray him like he did. He wanted to renew with what bound them to each other. This connection will save them both, will help them get through their immortality on this world.

Shredding his own pants to pieces, he seized Regis form against his own, putting a strength into their embrace that would have killed even the most muscular man. However, he was being careful with his claws, especially that he didn't wanted to spill a single drop of blood he had just given Regis. Also, their was something in Regis human form that prevent Dettlaff from hurting him, even if he could heal as quick as himself.

Guided once again by something that had nothing to do with reason or human emotions, Dettlaff retracted his claws, widened Regis stance on the floor with his knees, and lightly grabbed his thick and rigid cock to put it against the other's entrance. He then settled his forehead against Regis and grabbed the underside of his shoulder, keeping his claws short.

Regis trusted him like no other, and he was feeling extremely relaxed under the other weight, softly moaning at the intimate contact between his legs, sclera becoming entirely black. He pushed himself up, giving an encouragement and a sign that it was what he wanted. Their need was loudly emitting through their bond.

Vampires' shafts were gifted by small spines and a intern bone that could make the sexual act a bit uncomfortable to begin with. Knowing that, Dettlaff took his time and pushed into Regis with an extreme tenderness despite his wild appearance. Being buried completely into him, helping along the way by their natural lubrication, he emitted a long hissed that finished into a moan, never living Regis' eyes. They stayed like this during a long time, just enjoying the connection, and letting Regis' body time to adjust.

Dettlaff bent his head and lick at the thin looking skin on Regis neck, where his shoulder began. He knew where to touch, where the other's body would respond the best to his caresses. When Regis began to loose his calmness and violently shift on the floor, Dettlaff withdrew lightly from him, sat back and changed the angle, inserted only half of his cock, hitting Regis' prostate on his way. He moved slowly, trailing his claws on every bone on the other vampire's body, being receptive to each moan and groan coming from him. Rubbing his cock at the same time with the flat of his hand, this slow love making was driving Regis mad.

Before he could completely let himself go, he suddenly pinned Dettlaff front against the adjacent wall, growling dangerously at him. Regis was firmly decided to show his blood brother that he was not as weak as he thought after last month, and that his strength could rival with his own. Having changed in turn into his bestial form, he grounded his cock between Dettlaff's ass.

The dark-haired vampire was utterly surprised by this sudden show of power. He was normally not one to be dominated and should have reversed the balance right after. But he wanted to be vulnerable in Regis' arms, wanted to be possessed entirely by him.

Their transformed bodies were over sensitive, and the simple touch from Regis nipping on his skin, sent an electric and pleasant shock into the nerves of Dettlaff protuberant vertebra. Despite the feigned aggressiveness, Dettlaff could feel the tenderness in their bond. His desire was becoming hard to control, and he moved his ass impatiently against Regis' length. But his blood brother didn't surrender to his demand yet, and went on to tease his entrance with his hardness, slicked with pre-cum. He did it for a long time, inserted only the head of himself on the way, until he felt Dettlaff ready enough to accept his whole girth without pain.

Their perception shut off during their vivid lovemaking, and with the intensity of it, they lost track of time and space. At some point, they found themselves lying on their side outside the cave, on soft moss near the waterfall, under the night sky.

They came back to their senses with the smell of humid vegetation and the burbling sound of the water. Encircling Regis' waist with his legs, Dettlaff was making soft noises, like purrs, his orgasm still vibrating in the air. Both had their eyes closed, not ready yet to open up completely to the world around them. They were still in their vampire form.

Regis felt utterly calmed and relaxed and had no desire to move. He let himself fall asleep, until Dettlaff lazily licking on the side of his neck woke him up. As soon as they eyes met, Regis saw a flicker of fear and uncertainty in his eyes. There was no regret or shame in their recent shared intimacy, the feeling was for the future. How to return to the previous uncomfortable feelings and memories after such a moment of abandon?

Looking up at the Pyrola flowers above them, Regis broke the silence, his voice soft despite his rows of fangs.

“One step at a time. You may not stand where you wanted to, may not have experienced the kind of things you wanted, but you will eventually find a place for yourself. Instead of staying in the hard feelings of the past, you should try blooming where you have been planted, like those flowers blooming in the cracks of that cold and inhabited landscape. Humans are destroying their hope, destroying themselves out there, but we are still standing. We will survive this."

Dettlaff looked intently at the flowers before shifting on his back, fixing his gaze above him, reflecting on Regis' words. Raising to his feet, the latter went to the stream to wash the fluids off his body, regaining human form on the way. Walking back to where the dark-haired vampire still lied, he looked down at him, hiding the sky from his view. 

"Are you thinking of going back to Dillingen?" asked Dettlaff, "Because if you are, I would like to join you for some times, if you find it acceptable of course."

Offering a hand, Regis helped Dettlaff back to his feet while the latter shifted from his bestial shape.

"I wasn't sure of any direction, but now that you are mentioning it, it would be a perfect place to start your new journey my friend."


End file.
